Black Widow X Reader
by abbyja
Summary: You're an international assassin who's luck has finally ran out. Now you are under the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D, how will your relationship with a certain Avenger pan out?


**Okay so new genre of fanfiction for me this ... Hopefully you all enjoy it. If you do, please leave a review and tell me what you think; do you want more chapters? A different kind of story? What did you like about it etc. The reviews keep me writing so please let me know!**

You tried to focus on anything but the flurry of panicked thoughts circling around in your brain; the cold metal of the handcuffs against your skin, the gentle rattle of the chains that held the cuffs to the table, the muffled voices outside of the door. You desperately avoided the gaze of your own reflection in the one way glass in front of you, sickened by the sight of your pale, grey skin and the beads of fear induced sweat dripping from your forehead. You tongued the corner of your mouth, feeling the cut on your lower lip had finally stopped bleeding but was still just as sore as before. You could feel the swell of the bruise above your eyebrow, sure that another similar cut would be present and you would no doubt soon be sporting an impressive black eye. You adjusted yourself ever so slightly, shuffling in the seat with what little room for manoeuvre you had cuffed to the table, the ache in your muscles beginning to get difficult to ignore the longer you sat in the same rigid position. Despite all of this, the one thing you could feel stronger than anything was frustration. Frustration at failing. Frustration at not getting out on time. Frustration at being caught.

They had already sent in two people to interview you. The last guy was who you had to thank for the burning sensation across your left cheek having lost his temper at your continued silence. The fear and panic never stopped coursing through your veins the whole time they worked on you. Screaming. Threatening you. Hitting. Negotiating. Pleading with your humanity. But still, your lips remained sealed: it was your training.

Your ears perked up as the voices just outside the door became raised, one of the men from earlier sounding more than a little annoyed.

"You can't just come in here and take over, who gives you jurisdiction here?!"

"I understand you're frustrated but this is a matter for the American government."

"No fuck that, you listen here I-"

"Please calm down sir, this was not my call to make, I'm just here to collect her."

"Absolutely not, fucking Americans, no way, who's your boss?"

"That is not your concern."

The fact they had sent someone else to come for you did not fill you with any greater sense of comfort. The fact they were apparently American and were suggesting they were here to take you home and deal with you accordingly was no better either. The voice of the new man outside was much too calm, much too collected and much too sure of himself to be a standard government agent. No. You knew it from your years of training, you could hear it in his voice, this was something else.

As the door opened you slowly raised your head, daring to make eye contact with the person in front of you. The man was well dressed in a three piece tailored suit, a briefcase in one hand and a folder of paper clutched against his chest in the other. He had an almost blank expression on his face as he regarded you, setting the briefcase down by the wall before closing the door behind himself.

"Miss (y/l/n), I'm sure you're not surprised I'm here given the circumstances."

Running your fingers against the cool metal of the handcuff chain you remained silent, breaking eye contact with the new arrival and staring back down at the table in front of you as he settled himself in the chair opposite.

"You've made quite a name for yourself." He placed the folder down on the table, opening it out and scattering a few papers around before sliding a photograph over in to your line of sight, "Not a good name though, I must say."

Looking up slightly, your eyes fell on the photograph. An image pulled from the CCTV where they had caught you just hours ago.

Seeing that you weren't going to say anything, the man sighed, "I understand that you've been trained not to talk to us. I also understand why. But here's what I'm offering ..."

You watched silently as he began to gather up the papers in front of him, sliding the photograph back into the folder where it belonged before closing it completely and folding his hands on top.

"You come back to America with me. You help us bring the people in charge of this operation to justice. You work with us in untangling this huge mess and then maybe, just maybe Miss (y/l/n) you walk away from this with a chance of seeing the outside of a cell at some point in your life."

Blowing out a sharp breath you turned to the side, allowing his words to wash over you before turning back and locking eyes, "You say that like seeing the outside of a cell would be any better of an option once they find out what I've done."

"We would protect you."

You scoffed mockingly, "You can't protect yourselves."

"With respect, you don't really have a lot of choice here. You're coming back with me whether you like it or not." he rose to his feet, placing his hand down on the table and leaning forward so he could look down at you properly, "The only thing optional here is how willingly you follow me."

"Just by leaving Paris, I'm signing my life away. They'll assume I've flipped."

He shrugged, "So maybe it's best you cooperate and you can have someone in your corner."

Without warning you slammed your fists down on the table, the man in front of you jumping back slightly as the loud bang echoed around the room. "Stop trying to manipulate me! You're not in my corner! You can't protect me! I can't leave this country or they'll find me and I'd be lucky if all they did was kill me!"

There was a long pause as he studied you carefully. It must have been obvious you were scared. Maybe that's why he didn't shout back or try and drag you out of the room by force. Whatever the reason, you were surprised when instead of backing away, he took the few small steps required until he was stood right in front of you before kneeling down to your level.

"Miss(y/l/n), my name is Agent Benson and I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. I promise you that if you help us, I will make sure that these people never find you again. I know what they've done to you. I know what they've made you do to others. This organisation has been on our radar for a very long time ... as have you. I don't want them to do this to anyone else. And you can help me stop that. You have a chance to make amends for everything they've made you do in the past."

You couldn't help but snort out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disagreement before looking up at the agent with a cold stare, "You really think that just by turning in my bosses, that will atone for everything I've done wrong? All the people I've hurt? Lives I've taken? Please Agent Benson ... fairytales are for children."

Agent Benson rose to his feet, "Your baggage is yours to carry no matter what. But I know that if I was given a helping hand out of this, I would take it."

There was a long pause before you spoke quietly, "They'll come for me."

"And we'll be ready." He made his way back over towards the door, scooping up the folder from the table on his way before stooping down to collect the briefcase, "Do I have your word?"

Running your tongue along your lower lip slowly, you considered your options. You had heard of S.H.I.E.L.D. Of course you had. Everyone in the business had heard of them. You had also heard of their pet project The Avengers and as much as you had faith in your agency's and your own ability, going toe to toe with 'Earth's mightiest heroes' did not sound like fun, or something that you had any chance of winning. You knew your bosses would come looking for you, in all honesty they were probably already looking. If you were being extradited back to America then they would automatically assume you were a traitor, whether that was the truth or not and your life was essentially over. You fidgeted with the handcuffs uncomfortably, feeling for the first time in a long time, completely out of control. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, you knew that as much as you might not like it, your life was completely in S.H.I.E.L.D's hands and your only hope was to help them.

"You have my word." You muttered quietly.

With one short nod, he reached for the door handle, "I'll send them in to get you."

Nothing else was said as he turned the handle and briskly left the room, the door slamming closed harshly behind him and leaving you once again alone with your own thoughts. You could still feel the anxiety in the pit of your stomach with what was about to happen to you. Reaching your hands up as much as was possible in the cuffs, you were forced to lean forward to close the final distance and reach the back of your hand to your forehead and wipe away the beads of sweat that had gathered there. You were not left alone for long as not a minute later. the door opened again, this time allowing two people access in to the room.

You felt under intense scrutiny as they stood in the door way, one of them pushing the door closed slowly behind him but never taking his eyes away from you. You could feel the revulsion dripping from their gaze as they took a step further in to the room and continued to stare you down. It was the man who closed the door who spoke first.

"My name is Agent Barton, I'm here to escort you to the jet for transport back to Headquarters. In order to do that we're going to have to uncuff you from the table." He took a step further towards you. his eyes boring in to you making you feel about two inches tall, "Now I don't want to shoot you, but any funny business and you force my hand, you understand?"

You nodded slowly, your eyes darting briefly to the other person in the room as she dipped her hand in to her pocket and pulled a small key out before taking a few steps towards you and leaning against the front of the table.

"Hands flat against the top, palms down" She spoke slowly and clearly, her piercing green eyes unreadable but almost daring you to try something so she could have the pleasure of putting you in your place. It was obvious since both people had joined you in the room that they both knew who you were and what you had done in the past. Clearly they were harbouring some ill feelings towards you and had already made their mind up that you were not one of the good guys.

Complying with her request, you dared to keep her gaze, turning your hands over and pressing them against the cold, metal surface of the table top. For the first time since being recruited as an assassin, you almost felt intimidated by the woman in front of you. She was even harder to read than the other agents you had met so far, her lips pursed and eyes stony and dark. She was unfazed by your unfaltering eye contact as if it was obvious what you were trying to do and she wasn't remotely bothered by it.

A few seconds passed before the ghost of a smirk appeared at the corner of her lips and she lowered her eyes to the cuffs in front of you. All that could be heard in the room was two dry clicks as the key turned in the locks and your hands were freed. You had to fight the reflex of lifting your hands from the table and rubbing at your slightly bruised wrists, and instead obeyed the red headed woman's instructions and kept your palms flat against the table.

Dropping the key down in front of her, the woman mirrored your position, resting her own hands down as she leaned forward and regarded you carefully, "You're not going to give us any trouble are you?"

"I know when I'm beat." You shot back, refusing to shy away under her penetrating stare.

She quirked an eyebrow, "Answer my question."

"What? You don't think you could handle me?"

You barely had time for the cocky grin to register on your lips before a hand whizzed across your face at lightening speed, your skin burning fiercely where her hand had struck you. Within a beat you could taste the blood in your mouth, her blow obviously reopening a wound from your earlier fight and you grimaced, turning your head to the side and spitting the blood to the ground before tilting your head back up to look at her.

"Anything else smart to say? Because trust me I would just love you to give me a reason."

You didn't get the chance to say anything in response as Agent Barton stepped forward, resting his hand on her arm and whispering something quietly in her ear. Her face softened ever so slightly as he spoke and she took a breath before turning back to you and speaking.

"Stand up, hands out in front of you."

Again remaining silent, you complied, rising to your feet and kicking the chair back away from you before holding your hands out in front of her. You watched as she reached in to her back pocket, taking out a new pair of handcuffs and clicking them in to place around your wrists.

The last few clicks were slow as she tried to make them fit properly before looking up at you and quirking an eyebrow, "Okay?"

"If I said they were too tight would you actually loosen them?"

Without even looking down at what she was doing, her cold eyes stared back at you and she tightened them again, another click echoing throughout the room. "Okay?"

This time you hesitated before you spoke, the harsh metal now slightly uncomfortable against your skin. There was nothing you found more frustrating than someone else having the upper hand and in this situation it was more than a little obvious that the other woman had all of the control.

A few more seconds passed by before she seemingly got bored waiting for you to speak and again you heard the metallic click as she turned the handcuffs once more and the metal dug even further in to the skin on your wrists. You couldn't help but wince, the tightness just a tad more than uncomfortable now and bordering on pain. You gritted your teeth together, trying your best to ignore the pain as the green eyes in front of you continued to stare you down. challenging you to give in. You stared back, feeling the frustration and anger beginning to build inside as this woman toyed with you. Despite not wanting to give in to what was clearly a power play, as you felt her hands twitch around the cuffs again, the pain got the better of you and you couldn't help the words from blurting out.

"Okay okay, yes they're good, they're fine!"

Her expression remained emotionless, not even the slightest glimpse of satisfaction at having bettered you. Instead she simply turned on the spot and made for the door, walking through first as Agent Barton placed his hand on your back and guided you forward to follow her.

The walk to the jet was quick and silent. Neither of the agents spoke to you as you were walked along corridor after corridor and eventually out on to an air field. You couldn't help but look around uncomfortably, almost expecting someone to be waiting around a corner to take you out for betraying your agency. However, nothing happened. You were guided carefully in to the back of the jet, your handcuffs locked in to place on the arm rest of your chair as you were buckled in to your seat and the journey back across the Atlantic began.

Several weeks had passed since S.H.I.E.L.D had returned you back to the United States. You had spent pretty much all of that time either in an interrogation room or locked in a bedroom on the Avengers Compound. You had overheard the discussions on your arrival as the team had hotly debated where you should stay and where it would be safer to keep you. No one had seemed keen on the idea of you staying at the compound however a better idea had not been thought up and so, that is where you had stayed.

You had kept your word that you had given Agent Benson and had answered all the questions that S.H.I.E.L.D had about your agency. You had told them about every mission you had ever been sent on, every assassination, every plan, every crime that you knew about or had been a part of. It made you feel sick as you reeled off the information you had. Part of your training when you had been recruited was learning to disassociate from your actions, and the daily interrogations forcing you to dredge up your past were not helping.

You were often questioned by the same three people. Never at the same time and never twice in one day. You had become accustomed to their routine when speaking to you and you almost knew what to expect each day. Agent Benson would speak to you regularly. He seemed to be the person in charge of the whole investigation and he wanted to get as much information as possible from you. Agent Barton would come usually every other day. He had a much softer approach and would usually speak to you with a much more understanding and comforting tone than the others. That left only one other who you were used to.

"Agent Romanoff, we really need to stop meeting like this." You stated, sitting up straighter in your chair and shooting a smirk in the direction of the woman entering the room.

She said nothing, settling in to the chair on the other side of the table and placing a coffee down beside her. She folded her arms in front of her, her body turned to the side in her seat as she crossed one leg over the other and tilted her head to the left, her eyes locking with yours.

"You're holding out on me (Y/N)"

"Me?" You looked back at her innocently, your mouth slightly agape and hands clutched to your chest in disbelief, "I would never hold out on you Agent."

She scoffed, taking a sip of her coffee before placing it back down on the table, "There's another name. I know there is. Benson might believe you but I know you're lying."

"Oh is that so?" You leaned further forward, arms folded across the table, "And how do you know exactly?"

"I know what you are. It's what I've trained for" She turned her body, mirroring your position and facing you head on, "I know what you are because I've been it."

You chuckled, leaning back in your chair, "Oh so I've heard ... Although I was never lucky enough to see a member of the Black Widow programme up close before."

Her demeanour shifted slightly, the smallest flash of discomfort appearing on her face before returning to it's usual calm composure.

"You don't seem very keen on me knowing that about you?" You started, studying her carefully as she stared blankly back at you. "Are you ashamed?"

"Of course I-" She stopped herself from finishing her sentence, having not meant to blurt out the words so loud. The frustration at having snapped was glaringly apparent on her face and you couldn't help but smile. "Of course I am."

"Why though? Because these people say you should be? I had heard all about you when you were in Russia. The famous Black Widow ... People would say you were magnificent," You paused, a broad grin spreading across your lips, "And trust me, I am not disappointed."

Her eyes burned with untold rage as she glared back at you, "Tell me the name of the other guy (Y/N), I haven't got all day."

"Oh come now, we're having so much fun Natalia"

At the use of her real name, a dangerous expression appeared on her face and you praised yourself for your quick reflexes as your hand caught her arm by the wrist, stopping her fist from connecting with you in just enough time.

"It's a much fairer fight without the handcuffs don't you think?"

Cockiness had clearly gotten the better of you as no sooner had the words left your lips she was on her feet, her other hand connecting with the back of your head and slamming you down against the surface in front of you. You groaned and closed your eyes, blowing out a sharp breath as the pain spread through your skull, her hand still firmly pressing your temple down against the table.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." You grunted, wincing as she pressed down just a fraction harder before releasing you from her grip. You rubbed at the back of your neck with one hand, the other running circles gently on the side of your head as she watched you seemingly unfazed by the pain she had inflicted.

"The name, now."

"Thomas Lemaire."

She almost looked taken aback as you gave the name up so easily.

"Lemaire was the guy in charge in Paris. He was the one who put the plan together. The other guys at the top just pointed him in the right direction. Every success we had was because he planned it."

Romanoff sighed, "Why didn't you just tell me this two weeks ago (Y/N), you would have saved us a lot of time."

"Why didn't I tell you?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "You know exactly why I didn't tell you."

"You think he's going to come for you?"

Shaking your head, you looked back at her seriously, "He will have already found me. And he's just biding his time. What. you're just going to keep me living on this compound forever? You guys are gonna protect me from him forever? I was promised the possibility of seeing the outside of a jail cell for helping you find the people you needed but look around... that's all this is. A fancy jail cell."

"Normally when you break the law you wouldn't be surprised to end up in a jail cell." She snapped back, not a shred of empathy in her tone.

"Let me ask you something Agent, what makes us so different exactly?" You watched her carefully as she shrank ever so slightly under your stare, "You talk about me with such judgement and condemnation but what is it that makes me any worse than you? Do I need to remind you that I'm sat here right now helping you bring these guys in? Do I need to remind you that I've actually chosen to do the right thing here? And yeah ... I have done some horrible, evil stuff that I'm going to have to live with. But then again .. I'm sure you have a healthy body count behind you as well don't you?"

Agent Romanoff didn't get the chance to respond as the door behind her opened. She didn't react at first, her eyes remaining locked with yours as your words sank in. For a second you thought you saw tears forming in her eyes before she quickly snapped to her feet and turned to face the new arrival looking composed as ever.

"Kak pazhivayesh?"

Your eyes had remained on the red haired woman after she rose to her feet but as you heard the Russian phrase leave the man's mouth, you stole a glance at the new person, realising you did not recognise him. You wondered why he had come in just to ask the other woman how she was and whether this meant he had been listening from outside. Your eyes were momentarily drawn to the silver arm hanging by his side, but flitted back to Agent Romanoff as she nodded her head quickly and they continued their conversation quietly in Russian.

"She's given us the name."

"Really?"

You continued to listen, having expected his shock at her having gotten the name out of you.

Romanoff nodded again, "Yeah, I'm going to give it to Benson now, he should be happy."

"And she just gave it up that easy?"

"I had to do a little persuading if that's what you mean."

He smiled back at her, "I know what your idea of persuading is."

"It wasn't like that. We just talked. She's not that bad really."

The smile faded from his face as he looked back at her puzzled, "She killed three of our agents in the last week."

"She was brain washed by an evil corporation and forced in to doing their dirty work." She paused, wetting her lips as if debating whether to go on, "I know what that feels like."

"Yeah well ... don't we both." He gave her a comforting smile, squeezing her upper arm gently, "Be careful."

She chuckled quietly under her breath, "Don't worry about me. I think she needs someone who understands ... she needs our help ... hell if Barton hadn't helped me. Maybe it would be me sat on the other side of that table."

"Just watch out, that's all I'm saying."

"I know what I'm doing." She glanced over her shoulder, watching you for just a second before turning back to the man in front of her, "I know what it's like to be scared to change. To be scared you can't be changed. I want to help her."

Offering a sincere smile, the man conceded his agreement, "Let's go speak to Barnes, do you wanna take her back to her room first?"

Romanoff nodded, turning back to you and snapping her fingers in your direction, "Up, let's go."

"We're done? I was enjoying our chat."

"Do I need to drag you out of here by force?"

You chuckled, shaking your head gently as you stood from your chair and made your way over to where she was waiting, "What so you're back to pretending you don't give a shit about me now?"

Romanoff frowned, putting her hand on your upper back and pushing you gently in the direction of the door, "What makes you think I'm pretending?"

Smirking back at the red head as she pushed you, you stopped directly in front of her and leaned forward, placing your hand against the door frame and setting your face barely an inch in front of hers.

"Я тоже могу говорить по-русски, принцесса"

Her eyes seemed to bulge in surprise for just a second as you grinned back at her, removing your hand from the door frame and stepping out in to the corridor to make your way back to your room. You weren't sure what would have surprised her more, the confession that you could speak Russian or your bold use of addressing the deadly woman in front of you with a pet name. Whichever it was, the words seemed to have had the desired effect as it took a few seconds before she began to follow you, hurrying the first few steps in order to catch up to you.

"So you understood everything I said to Bucky then?" she asked once she was alongside me.

"My Russian is a little rusty but yeah pretty much."

She breathed out what almost sounded like a laugh, "Wow they just teach that language to anyone these days."

"Well ... given my line of work and the reputation of your people ..." You paused as she glared almost playfully at you, "My employers thought it better to be safe than sorry."

She didn't say anything, the two of you continuing the long walk back along the corridor towards the rooms side by side. The pair of you remained silent, lost in your own thoughts until you made it to your door and turned to face her.

"So you're really going to help me then?"

She wet her lips, folding her arms in a protective manner in front of her as she considered her answer, "If you take it seriously."

"I don't ..." You stopped, unsure how to best articulate what it was you wanted to say. " I never wanted to be this person."

"So lets change that."

You sighed, voice cracking ever so slightly as you replied, "How could I ever be anything else?"

She took a careful step towards you, locking eyes with you intently as if willing you to hear her sincerity, "I know what it's like to be undone. I know what it's like to be taken apart and put back together as something else. But I also know that if it's happened once, it can happen again. And maybe this time, you can put yourself back together how you choose."

"I've killed people."

"Yeah well ..." She let out a long sigh, "I know what that feels like too."

Silence washed over the pair of you as you stood outside of your door, letting what had been said sink in. You both stared down at your feet, mulling over your thoughts.

"I'll see you later yeah?"

Agent Romanoff looked up from her feet as you spoke, her face softening ever so slightly, "I do want to help you (Y/N)"

Nodding slowly, you offered an appreciative smile, "Okay."

She leaned around you, pressing down on the handle of your door and pushing you gently, forcing you take a step back in to the room to balance yourself.

"And I will help you .. but know this," She matched your step in to the room, resting one hand on the door handle as she leaned in towards you, "Я, конечно, не принцесса."

A grin ghosted it's way across your lips, "Oh I bet."

Her grip on the door handle tightened, the corner of her lip twitching as if she were trying to suppress a smile of her own as she went to pull the door closed. Before it had moved an inch, your hand shot out and gripped the door, holding it in place.

"So what is your name then, Agent Romanoff."

There was a long pause before she finally opened her lips to speak, "Natasha."

With that, she pulled the door quickly and firmly from your grip, slamming it closed and the last thing you heard was the dull clink of the lock.

True to her word, Natasha started trying to help you. She had confessed from the beginning that she didn't understand how or why she was going to do it, but only that she was going to do her best. What mattered to you the most was that she was willing to try because this actually meant you got to spend some time with someone outside of an interrogation.

The two of you had spent time in the gym together, getting into the practice of of working out every morning so you actually could get some exercise even if you were cooped up all day. You got to eat half way decent meals again as she would take you in to the dining room or kitchen on an afternoon for dinner where you had actually met some other people on the team. You would complete training sessions on an evening with Agent Barton, or Clint as he had come to be known to you, learning to control and manage your strength in a way that didn't have to be used simply to kill people. You would sit on a night with Natasha and sometimes Bucky or occasionally Steve Rogers discussing anything and everything you could think of. You found yourself thinking and talking in a different way, no longer looking at the world as the dark and depressing place you once had.

Weeks went by and things began to fall into routine. Breakfast. Gym. Meeting with S.H.I.E.L.D. Lunch. Reading. Training. Dinner. Talking with the each passing day you started to feel more comfortable. People you passed in the corridor no longer looked at you like a monster but would greet you with a smile or a wave. You were no longer smuggled shyly around by Natasha but were trusted ever so slightly more to walk around the compound during the day and find a book or an activity to occupy yourself with. Despite all of your previous reservations, you actually started to relax ever so slightly into your surroundings.

As it was, it was a Friday evening and you had just settled yourself into the corner of the sofa in the deserted living room. Having just endured a gruelling training session with Clint, you had opted for a quick shower before curling up on the couch with a book, desperate to relax your somewhat aching muscles. As you started to skim over the words on the pages, stretching your legs out in front of you, the silence in the room was broken.

"Heavy week?"

You looked up from the pages, smiling at the new arrival and nodding, "Clint kicked my ass."

Natasha chuckled, tapping your feet gently as a gesture for you to move them before settling down on to the other side of the couch "I've seen you in training, it'll be the other way around soon enough."

"Been watching have we?" You teased, tossing your book over on to the coffee table beside you and grinning at the other woman.

"Well, I needed to make sure he was training you properly."

You laughed gently, "You sure you weren't just there to check him out?"

"Clint?!"

Natasha looked back at you with a flabbergasted expression on her face, a half smile on her lips and her eyes scanning over your face as she tried to determine whether you were being serious or not. Seeing that you were in fact being serious, you couldn't believe it when she threw her head back and laughed. A real loud, long, genuine laugh. The sound seemed to echo around the room and you couldn't quite understand how it was possible that this cold, serious, unfaltering woman was responsible for it.

"Me and Clint?" Natasha barely spluttered the words out as she rose to her feet, taking the few steps over to the bar in the corner of the room and leaning down in to the mini fridge that lay behind it. "Now I've heard everything."

You frowned, "So hang on, you don't have a thing for Clint?"

Pulling two bottles of beer out the fridge, Natasha laughed again and made her way back over to the sofa. "Don't be silly, he's like my brother or something."

"Well I guess I called that one wrong." You muttered, furrowing your brow ever so slightly as Natasha settled down on the couch next to you before holding one of the beers in your direction, "You sure?"

"What? Like you don't deserve a drink just because you thought I was into Clint?"

"No I just mean ..." you looked around the room quickly, "I'm still technically being held for investigation here. I don't think prisoners get beer."

Natasha chuckled, twisting the bottle cap off the beer and thrusting it into your hand, "You're not a prisoner (Y/N)"

You looked down at the beer in your hand warily, considering your actions for just a second before shrugging and taking a tentative sip, earning you a satisfied smirk from the other woman.

"Ooooo I'm telling." teased Natasha, tilting her own beer to her lips and taking a sip.

You breathed out a laugh, "You're supposed to be making me good, not bad."

"Sometimes it's okay to be bad."

Her tone oozed provocation and you knew that had it not been for years of training in the matter, it would probably have been a challenge to hide the blush threatening to rise below your cheeks. Instead you cleared your throat, trying to move the conversation on, "So if not Clint, you're with someone else?"

Taking a sip of her beer, Natasha eyed you curiously, "Why do you want to know?"

"Professional interest."

Natasha wet her lips, "No, there's no one else."

"Kind of hard I guess ... doing what we do ... difficult to find someone who would understand."

She nodded her head slowly, taking another small sip of her beer as she turned her body towards you, her elbow on the back of the sofa as she rested her chin on her hand.

"What?" you asked, feeling like you were under intense observation.

"Have you got your eye on someone, is that it?"

You frowned, now thoroughly confused, "What?"

"Is that why you wanna know if I'm involved with anyone here? You want to know if they're available?" Natasha quirked an eyebrow at you, an amused grin forming on her lips, "Clint is married."

"Wait ... no." You turned on the sofa as well, mirroring her position and holding your hand up defensively, "I'm not interested in Clint."

The red-head laughed, "Hey it's totally cool, I'm just sorry to burst your bubble."

"No seriously, no way." you shook your hand animatedly in front of you, "He's so, so not my type."

"He's a good looking guy, nothing to be embarrassed about."

"He's really not my type."

Cocking her head to one side, her grin broadened, "So who is it then? Bucky?"

"Ew! No! Stop!"

"Steve?"

"Natasha seriously it's none of them."

She shook her head in amusement, "I really don't believe you."

"Listen ... honestly?" you raised your eyebrows at her as she nodded to show she was listening, "None of them okay? None of the ... men ... in this compound, are my ... type."

"So you're gay?"

You took a sip of your beer, "Yeah ..."

"Well you could have just said that from the start." she stated, "Or better yet, you could have said it two weeks ago and won me twenty bucks."

"What?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "I bet Tony twenty bucks you were gay."

"You placed a bet that I was gay?"

"What can I say? I'm a good agent, I notice things."

You punched her gently in the arm, breathing out a laugh, "So that whole accusation was just to make me squirm?"

"Basically."

Chuckling softly, you both fell in to comfortable conversation. A few more beers were emptied between the two of you as you continued to talk in to the night. A couple of people had been in and out of the room throughout the course of the evening, the occasional person stopping for a quick chat or a drink, but by the end of the night, it was still just you and Natasha.

Finishing off the beer in your hand before placing the bottle on the table with the rest of the empties, you settled back against the sofa and let out a content sigh, "This has been nice."

"It has."

"Almost makes me forget you have to lock me back in a cage afterwards."

Natasha looked back at you, her expression unreadable, "You know why I have to lock you in."

"I'm not blaming you."

Your eyes drifted down as you saw her arm stretching it's way across the back of the sofa, her hand eventually coming to rest on top of yours. Her fingers pressed down onto your own, her thumb brushing gently across the skin of your hand. You couldn't tear your gaze away, watching her carefully as her thumb skimmed slowly over the top of your hand, rubbing softly against your skin.

"You should be proud of yourself you know."

Tearing your eyes away from her ministrations, you looked into the green staring back at you carefully, "It's not myself that I have to thank though is it."

"It doesn't matter who or what helped along the way (Y/N), it was you that did it."

"It matters to me."

You wanted her to know how grateful you were, how lucky you felt for her to have taken the chance in helping you. More than anything you just wanted her to know that you appreciated her. Not able to find any words that even began to convey any of that, you did the only thing you could think of, turning your hand over underneath hers, and threading your fingers together, squeezing her hand gently.

Her eyes darted to your linked hands briefly, as if needing to see it with her own eyes to check that it was actually happening. Just as quickly her gaze flitted back to meet your own, an unreadable emotion in them. For a second it looked like she might be uncomfortable, that was until she sat up on her knees, shuffling closer on the sofa so she was sat only a few inches in front of you. Still neither of you said anything as you withdrew your fingers from Natasha's, your palm flat against hers as you moved up, gripping her wrist and sliding your hand slowly up the inside of her arm. All you could concentrate on was how soft and smooth her skin was and the heat radiating from her body against your hand.

She wet her lips and simply watched as your hand came to rest at the top of her lower arm, holding on to her limb loosely as your thumb brushed delicately over the skin inside of her elbow. A smirk threatened to break out on your lips as you watched her fight a shiver the moment your thumb skimmed her delicate patch of skin. She pushed out a breath, her fingers tightening ever so slightly where they rested underneath you, digging into your arm.

It felt like the temperature had gone up at least a few degrees inside of the room, your breathing felt slightly more laboured and there was an undeniable tension that was rising with every second that passed; the two of you sat together, just a few inches apart and arms intertwined. As your thumb brushed her arm again, Natasha leaned forward ever so slightly, her other hand landing on your thigh. This touch was nothing like your own, her hand felt heavy and urgent, almost gripping you as her fingers pressed down against your leg.

If the temperature in the room hadn't increased before, then you were in no doubt that it definitely had now. Even through your jeans you were sure your skin was burning where Natasha was touching you. The blush that you had managed to hide so well earlier in the evening was threatening to creep it's way up the side of your neck, and you swallowed hard, your throat feeling considerably drier than it had a few minutes ago. Your own grip on Natasha's arm tightened, adding extra pressure where your thumb was against her skin. Her eyes somehow seemed an even darker shade of green, her lips slightly parted as she sighed out another heavy breath.

Unsure what to do next, but wanting it to be something, you adjusted your position ever so slightly, closing the gap between the two of you by an inch or so. She copied your move, a small wry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as your knees now pressed together, closing the remaining distance between your bodies on the sofa cushions.

You held your breath, looking down to her leg pressed against your own and then back up again, a barely noticeable smile still trying to make itself known at the corner of her lips. So much time had gone by since someone last spoke that it almost startled you when she said something.

"Your move."

You couldn't help but break out in to a smile. Of course she was daring you to make a move. She had been daring you since the very first moment she'd met you in that interrogation room, wanting you to push her and see what she'd do. If nothing else, you couldn't deny that you were curious what her reaction would be.

Your legs still gently pressed against one another, your arm laying over her own on the back of the sofa, you barely had to move to set your face directly in front of her's, so close that your noses were practically grazing. Your eyes bore in to one another as she waited to see what you would do. It felt like time had frozen, the two of you sat together, completely invasive of the others personal space as you sat facing each other, close enough to feel her breath on your lips. You could feel the heat radiating from her body where it was pressed against you, her chest was rising and falling slightly faster than it normally would and you couldn't help but find it an incredibly curious sight compared to the usually calm and composed agent she presented herself as.

"You are an absolutely stunning woman, you know that?"

You had spoken in barely a whisper, almost scared to comment on the beauty of such a dangerous person and desperately not wanting to step over any lines. The last thing you wanted was to push the boundaries of what was already an incredibly complicated relationship that the two of you shared. After all, it was difficult to forget that the flame-haired woman had brought you to the compound in handcuffs. That being said, the demanding contact of her fingers pressing into your thigh and the dark shimmer of excitement in her eyes told you that you were not over stepping your mark by speaking again.

"You are better than any fantasy I could come up with in my head." You paused as you wet your lips, not failing to notice her line of sight dropping to watch the small movement, "Not that I wouldn't be happy to fantasise about someone as gorgeous as you."

A small, amused smile pulled at her lips, her words coming out just as quiet as your own, "Are you flirting with me?"

Looking up at one of the waves of rich, red hair that was splayed across Natasha's forehead, you raised the hand that wasn't linked with her's on the back of the sofa and gently brushed the hair to one side, eyes still burning in to one another intensely.

"Would you be offended if I was?"

She chuckled quietly, "I doubt there is much reason to be offended when someone is calling you gorgeous ... however I am disappointed somewhat."

Your nose crinkled momentarily in confusion, "Disappointed?"

"Mhmm" she paused and sank her teeth in to her lower lip, the pressure of her fingers increasing ever so slightly against your thigh, "You can do better."

You blew out a sharp breath, the sight of her biting down on her lip sending an unstoppable wave of arousal through your veins. "Better?"

"Every time I am sent to interrogate someone and they're trying to turn the tables, I have to hear all about how beautiful I am." She stated, her fingers creeping barely a few centimetres further up your thigh, "All that training you've had, surely you have a much more exciting approach to seducing a woman than flattery."

"What is it you'd like to hear ... lisichka?"

Her sly grin broadened further as you hissed out the Russian term, her body moving smoothly and seemingly of it's own accord as she made sure there was absolutely no space left between the two of you. She retracted her hand from your thigh and instead rested it on the back of your neck as she pulled herself forward, thighs straddling either side of your legs as she settled into your lap. Her fingernails scraped lightly at your scalp as she gripped the back of your head, her eyes burning in to yours as she pushed out a breath, her face set just in front of yours.

"Tell me what you'd wanna do to me in this fantasy of yours."

Her statement took you by surprise and without so much practice in hiding your emotions, you might have struggled to remain looking calm. Fortunately it only took a couple of seconds for your composure to return and her words sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, your hands moving to rest on her hips, holding her in place in front of you. Your movement prompted her to raise her other arm, both hands now gripping tightly on the back of your neck.

"Are you sure you want to hear? I would hate to disrespect an Agent."

She smiled widely, leaning forward and setting her lips against your ear, "Now I definitely want to hear what you'd do to me."

Your heart practically stopped as you felt her suck your ear lobe in to her mouth before releasing it with a pop, her warm breath against your skin causing every hair on your body to stand on end.

Pressing your hands more firmly on her waist you let out a soft breath, "Would you let me kiss you."

Her grip tightened, her nose brushing gently against yours, "I was hoping you would."

"Would you let me touch you?"

She smirked and looked down at her body settled in your lap, "You are touching me."

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, not wanting to make the biggest and most embarrassing mistake of your life. However, having The Black Widow straddling your waist, her mouth dangerously close to your own, her fingers threaded through your hair and the demand of her wanting to know what you wanted to do to her, was enough to give you the burst of confidence you needed.

Taking a chance, you displayed a confident smirk to hide your nerves and kept your eyes locked with Natasha's, your hand moving from her waist and down her hip, skimming over her stomach as you passed the point of no return and cupped her firmly over her thin, black trousers.

"There are much more interesting places for me to touch you if you'd let me."

A loud gasp left Natasha's body before she had a chance to try and hold it, her body reacting instinctively as she was powerless to stop herself from pushing down into your touch. Her thighs squeezed around your legs and her fingernails dug even further into your scalp.

Pressing her forehead to yours she spoke slowly, "Mne nravitsya kogda ti trogaesh menya tam."

She spoke in a thick Russian accent, a far cry from the neutral voice she usually spoke in and her words were dripping with lust, only serving to increase your own arousal. You couldn't take it, you needed more. Finally, you closed the minimal distance between the two of you and pressed your lips to hers. Her hands instantly tightened on the back of your head, holding you in place so that there was no risk of you breaking the kiss. There was no need for her to worry, your hands sneaking around her waist, finally coming to rest on her ass and pulling her into you, her body now so flush against you that you could feel the heat radiating from her centre against your stomach.

As her lips parted for a second, you took the chance and slipped your tongue easily into her mouth. She rewarded you with a soft moan and a tug on your hair, sucking your tongue further into her mouth and brushing it with her own.

Soon all that could be heard was your frantic breathing and shared kisses as your lips worked against one another, tongues battling and hands exploring. She tasted absolutely divine and her skin felt like silk below your finger tips as you dipped them under her shirt and over her hips. You tugged her closer, her centre forced roughly against your body and earning you another groan into the kiss.

Slipping her tongue from your mouth, she snagged your lower lip between her teeth, biting down gently before releasing it and breaking the kiss. Her forehead was still pressed against yours and her breathing was coming out somewhat ragged. You felt completely and utterly hypnotised by her in that moment; her hair ruffled from your fingers running through it, her lips full and even plumper than usual, her eyes were dark and intense and her normally pale cheeks were tinged pink. She looked even more beautiful than you had ever seen her and yet you still wanted more.

"Take me somewhere." You whispered.

There was a moments hesitation as she seemed to consider the ramifications of your request. Of course it was a terrible idea. Given the circumstances of your presence at the compound, it was less than appropriate for the two of you to have even enjoyed an evening together drinking. And yet, her lips turned up into a smirk as she said nothing, sliding out of your lap and rising to her feet before turning to face you, hand out stretched.

You were powerless to stop the grin that formed on your own face as you accepted the offered hand and allowed yourself to be tugged to your feet and lead out of the room. You noticed that the corridor she was leading you down was not in the direction of your own bedroom and this generated the arrival of a huge surge of butterflies in your stomach. The idea of Natasha allowing you access into somewhere as inherently private as her bedroom made you nervous for reasons you couldn't quite explain, but the light weight of her hand in yours, pulling you behind her gave you all the encouragement you needed to follow her.

You were given no more time to consider your nerves as she dropped your hand, coming to a stop outside of a door and reaching into her pocket for a key card. She swiped the card near the handle, a green light signalling the door was now open as she pushed it forward and stepped inside, holding it open briefly as a signal for you to follow her.

Stepping in to what you assumed was Natasha's bedroom, the first thing that struck you was how dramatically nicer it was than your own. There was a set of double doors on one wall that you could see opened up to a small balcony over looking the city. You were only 6 or 7 floors up but the view was still spectacular. The walls were modestly decorated with a few framed photos and paintings and by the door there was a large but simple rug. The most impressive part of the bedroom was the large four poster bed against the back wall, light sheets and netting surrounding it and creating a beautiful canopy of deep reds and purples. If you had guessed what kind of decoration Natasha would have in her bedroom, it probably wouldn't be far from the display before you.

"Make yourself comfortable."

You turned on the spot, having been so consumed by your new surroundings that you almost forgot how you had ended up there. Your lips turned up into a grin, "Where would you like me?"

She returned the smile, accompanying it with a playful eye roll as she turned the lock in the door and leaned back against the hard wood, hands folded behind her back as she stared you down. The look in here eyes was almost animalistic and despite yourself, you couldn't help but feel a small amount of apprehension forming in the pit of your stomach.

She seemed able to read you like a book, cocking her head to one side and studying you carefully, the smallest trace of amusement gracing her features, "Are you nervous?"

You wet your lips, shaking your head slowly. "Nervous might not be the right word."

"Are you scared of me?"

Taking a couple of steps further in to the room, you perched yourself on the mattress at the very bottom of the bed, sitting directly opposite the other woman who was still resting against the door. "I've spent time with a lot of dangerous people Natasha."

Following you further in to the room, she stopped just a couple of steps in front of where you sat, "So I don't scare you?"

You chuckled, "Of the many surprising things I have felt this evening, fear has not been one of them."

Nodding her head in understanding, she took another cautious step forward which you watched with interest before asking your own question, "Are you afraid of me?"

There was several seconds of silence as she nibbled at her lower lip, considering the question carefully before speaking quietly, "No ... I ... I wasn't ... I don't think so."

Trying to bring some humour to the situation you leaned back, resting your palms against the mattress and grinning back at the other woman, "You can bring your handcuffs if it makes you feel more comfortable."

"Maybe later." She folded her arms across her chest and arched an eyebrow, trying to hide a smile, "Lay back."

Breathing out heavily, relieved to hear it come out steady, you did as you were told, shuffling backwards along the mattress before settling back against the many soft, plump pillows that adorned the bed. Her eyes followed your every movement, taking another step forward so she could rest her knee on the edge of the mattress. You felt like her next meal, her green eyes burning in to you and that hungry expression back on her face as you felt the bed dip under the weight of her leg. Swallowing hard you braced yourself for her next move, grateful for the cool silk of her sheets against your burning skin.

"Do you still want me?" She asked, not a shred of vulnerability in her voice as if she was already certain of what your answer would be.

Swallowing down another lump in your throat, you watched as she sank her other knee in to the mattress so she was now knelt at the bottom just in front of your feet, "Of course I do."

"You still haven't told me what you want."

"You really want to know?" You asked, earning a small nod in return. You smiled, holding out your hand, "Come here."

She took the offered hand, allowing you to tug her forward until once again you found yourself in the same position you had been in earlier on the sofa. Her thumb brushed against your cheek roughly as she wrapped her hands around your neck, and you felt her squeeze your legs as she wrapped her thighs around you and straddled your lap. You swallowed, gripping both of her hips with your hands and holding her firmly in place on top of you as you delivered a gentle, brief kiss to her lips.

Moving forward a fraction, you settled your lips beside her ear, placing another short kiss just below her lobe and lowering your voice to barely a whisper, "I want to feel my lips on every inch of your body."

She pushed out a breath, her eyes closing slowly and her fingers tightening in your hair. "What else."

"I want to be able to taste you on my fingers."

This time she replied with the softest of moans, almost like she had tried to conceal it, her thighs squeezing around your waist again.

"I want to feel you tighten around me as I make you come, again and again and again." You sank your teeth in to her ear lobe as you finished your sentence.

Her body was now moving more noticeably against you, no longer the occasional squeeze with her legs but instead a more urgent grind in to your lap as if she was desperately trying to release some of the tension that had no doubt gathered down there. She didn't wait for you to way anything else, obviously having hear enough as she pushed out another heavy breath and pressed her forehead against yours, "Сними мою одежду и Трахни меня сейчас"

You certainly did not need to be asked twice, welcoming her lusty demand with a satisfied grin as your lips crashed together once again and you complied with Natasha's request. It was only a matter of minutes before clothes were scattered haphazardly throughout the room, neither of you really caring all that much where anything ended up and mostly just annoyed at the need to detach your lips to remove certain articles of clothing. Reaching behind the other woman and unclipping her bra with relative ease, your lips began to make their way down her neck, sucking the soft skin into your mouth before soothing it roughly with your tongue. Natasha threw her head back, allowing you all the access you desired as she released the occasional moan or gasp with each sensitive spot you brushed with your mouth. Once you had freed her completely of her bra, you wasted no time in raising your hands to her ample breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze which she welcomed with a satisfied groan, reattaching her lips with yours and thrusting her tongue in to your mouth. Your hands continued to explore the newly exposed skin before you, pinching one of her nipples between your thumb and forefingers and earning you a outburst of Russian curses.

Natasha seemed in no mood to waste time undressing you as well, throwing your clothes and underwear somewhere to join her own, pushing you down against the mattress before settling on top of you, both of you revelling in the intoxicating sensation of your bodies meeting in all of the right places. You could feel her hardened nipples against your chest, and now that you were both free of your underwear you could also feel against your thigh that she was indeed just as wet as you had hoped. She released another loud moan as you gripped her hips again and applied a generous amount of pressure with your thigh, the sound of her appreciation only just muffled by your tongue in her mouth.

Detaching herself from your lips just long enough to mumble out the word 'Harder.' in between heavy breaths, she followed by sucking your tongue gratefully back in to her mouth and rocking her hips against your thigh in encouragement; not that you needed any. You were more than happy to comply with whatever request she had, unable to believe that such a beautiful and undeniably sexy woman was on top of you, gloriously worked up and desperately wanting whatever release it was you would give her. Using your strength, you pushed up from underneath Natasha, rolling her over so she was now on her back, your body settled in between her legs and lips now working their way once again down her neck. This time you didn't stop as you made it to her collar bone, running your tongue along it and revelling in the delectable mix of sweet and salty on your taste buds.

Natasha was practically writhing now, her breaths more like short and shallow pants as her fingers clawed at your back and her hips bucked up to meet you. You couldn't help but notice how flushed pink her chest now was as your lips worked their way down, your hands squeezing both of her breasts together as you ran your tongue down the centre. She seemed to be struggling to keep her head straight, more and more words coming out in that thicker and distinctly more Russian accent with every passing minute that your bodies moved together.

"Срань господня!" The words blurted from her mouth followed by a low groan as you pinched one of her nipples between your teeth, rubbing circles around the other with your thumb in between gentle pinches. You flicked your tongue over the hardened peak a few more times, revelling in the moans of approval it earned you before sucking it in to your mouth and swirling your tongue over it once again. Her hand was heavy against the back of your head, fingernails scratching against your scalp as she tensed her grip with each rush of pleasure through her body.

"More." She demanded, her hips rocking frantically against your body, "Mhmm, please more."

If it weren't for the intensity and down right enjoyment of your current situation, you might have stopped to do a completely lame happy dance that this goddess of a woman was grinding against your body and begging for more of what you were giving her. Both of your bodies were now slick with moisture, your skin tingling with the combination of goosebumps and prickly heat her touches were causing.

Tearing your lips away from her heaving breasts, you managed to look up at the writhing woman below you, brushing her damp hair back from her face to catch her eye and whisper, "Tell me what you want Nat."

She moaned again, resting her hand on the back of your neck and tugging you up to her level. She pressed her lips briefly to your own and managed to husk the words out in between frantic breaths, "Put your fingers ... inside of me ... and fuck me ... hard."

Your stomach flipped at her orders, the words and your imagination almost enough to make you come without having to go any further. But that wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to make Natasha come undone, you wanted to feel her twitch and writhe and groan underneath you as you took her to the heights of pleasure. For that reason you were more than happy to indulge her in her cravings, not stopping on the way to your destination as you removed your right hand from her breast, giving her nipple a parting squeeze as you skimmed over her stomach and through the small patch of hair to run a finger along the entire length of her soaked core.

Natasha's head tilted back in to the pillow, her mouth dropping open to release a soft gasp. "Yes, please."

You couldn't help but smirk at the reaction, your other hand resting on her head as you tilted it back down and forced her to look at you. She looked an absolute vision; her flushed chest rising and falling dramatically as she tried to draw in desperate, shallow breaths, lips parted and swollen with the slightest trace of the minimal lipstick she had been wearing earlier in the evening smudged along the side of her jawline, her eyes were the darkest shade of emerald you had ever seen and her body looked even more heavenly without clothes on than you could ever have imagined, especially with the light sheen of sweat that currently covered it. Not wanting to delay things any further, you dipped your hand lower and slid a single finger inside of the red-haired woman causing her to dig her fingernails harder in to your skin, her back arching off the bed in to your touch.

She groaned in tortured frustration as you withdrew your finger. You simply watched her with a satisfied grin as you raised your hand to your face, sucking your finger in to your mouth, a soft moan escaping you as the taste of Natasha hit your tongue. She huffed out a heavy breath, hand thrown to her forehead as she pushed her hair from her face.

Despite everything she couldn't help but chuckle quietly, "You always get what you want?"

Removing your finger from your lips, you grinned down at her wickedly, "Trust me ... I'm not leaving here until I've gotten everything I want."

"Mmmm." She hummed, wrapping her arms tighter around you as she hooked a leg around your body, "Now hurry up and give me what I want." She dug her fingernails in to your shoulder blades, lips ghosting over your own, "Fuck me."

"Yes Ma'am."

Without saying another word, you swiftly slipped your hand down her body and pushed two fingers deep inside of her. The guttural moan that erupted from within her throat was enough to make you feel like your soul had left your body and your heart had stopped. The finger nails of her right hand dragged tortuously slowly down your spine whilst her other hand got lost in your hair. With every pump of your fingers her moans and gasps increased in frequency and volume. As Natasha rocked her hips against you harder, you pushed another finger inside of her, a loud moan of approval telling you it was exactly what she wanted. Her fingers were tugging more urgently on fist fulls of your hair, desperate for something to hold on to as she pushed in to every thrust of your hand. Pressing your lips together, she gratefully accepted your tongue into her mouth, the only thing muffling her now deafening shouts of pleasure and curse words.

The kiss didn't last long as you brushed your thumb against her clit causing her back to arch off the bed and she pushed out a heavy gasp against your lips. She pulled your hair again, mumbling in to your mouth for more, as your fingers continued to essentially pound in to the woman below you. Happy to oblige you gave a final peck to Natasha's lips before skimming your mouth over her body, a token kiss placed on each nipple before running your tongue down her stomach, dipping in to her belly button and eventually joining your busy fingers. The second your tongue lapped at her clit, you felt her tighten around your digits. You knew she was close; you could feel her legs beginning to flail against the sheets, her words and moans blurring together into one unintelligible mess, her hands frantically squeezing and gripping at your shoulders for some kind of support. You swept your tongue over her again, curling your fingers inside of her and you could feel her body beginning to tremble. She buried her fingers into your hair, holding your head in place and essentially forcing your mouth against her but you didn't mind. You were more than happy to give her what she wanted. All it took was a few more curls of your fingers as you sucked her clit in to your mouth, swirling your tongue over it. Her body shook. Her grip on your hair tightened. You felt her insides constrict around your fingers. You hoped to god that her bedroom was as soundproof as your own as a sentence so scrambled and so frantic left her lips that you couldn't even begin to translate what it was she was trying to say. You felt Natasha's body tense as you curled your fingers again and a long, loud. satisfied moan of your name left her lips as her orgasm finally washed over her.

You continued to move your fingers slowly, allowing her to ride it out as your tongue lapped gratefully at her juices and her moans faded to quiet whimpers and pants for breath. After receiving a few more clenches from the red-haired beauty below you, you finally removed your fingers, wiping them sloppily on your thigh as you watched her try and catch her breath.

Her chest was still rising and falling rapidly as she looked down at you, a smug grin on your face as you rested your chin on her stomach. Natasha chuckled, wiping the perspiration from her forehead and pushing her hair out of her face. "What?"

"What were you trying to say?"

She laughed again, finally sounding like her breathing was calming as her speech came out relatively even, "When?"

"You said something in Russian just now that I didn't understand."

Natasha gave you a flirtatious smirk, beckoning you up to her with a curl of her forefinger. Only once you had shuffled up her body and your faces were level did she answer you,

"I said ..." She placed a hand on your chest, beginning to trace patterns lightly with her finger, "No one has ever made me come that hard before."

You couldn't help but break out in to a self-satisfied grin, "Oh really?"

She nodded slowly, running her tongue along her lower lip, "Amongst a lot of profanities of course."

"Well I'm not going to complain about that." You joked.

Biting down on her lower lip, Natasha pushed you gently, rolling you on to your back before straddling your waist. She placed a hand either side of your head and looked down at you with an almost curious expression on her face. It took all of your will power to stop your eyes from dropping to her breasts that sat just inches below your line of sight.

"I think it's time that I got to have some fun now though." She stated, an almost intimidating tone to her words, "Don't you think?"

You swallowed down the lump in your throat, unable to muster any words. Fortunately she didn't seem to need a response, leaning down to your ear with a smirk and whispering, "Trust me, you're going to be glad I locked you in **this** room."


End file.
